


Runaway

by abby1090



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Flashbacks, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Other, Protective Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sleepy Bois Inc Fluff, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric, TommyInnit Nearly Dies (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, help help yall boosted my ego too much, i have three chapters im working on at the same time pls, i need to edit the next chapter but i keep getting distracted by streams, i write most of this at 2am im sorry, idk what tags to put lol, might have ranboo???, tagging is v difficult, tommyinnit horse whisperer arc?, tubbo is kinda mentioned, uhh, why did so many ppl read this, yall are insane thank you so much for the support!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abby1090/pseuds/abby1090
Summary: Tommy escapes exile when Dream blows up Logstedshire - gets super injured, tired, all that jazz. Finds his way to Technoblade, and Techno finds out what happened in exile, gets pissed, goes sicko mode on Dream. Idk, I really suck at summaries. I promise you the actual writing is so much better than this summary.Also sleepy bois fluff!!!!
Relationships: Dream SMP Ensemble & Sleepy Bois Inc.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 203





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the lights go out (my heart goes still)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28099206) by [curseworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curseworm/pseuds/curseworm). 



> Ahh this is my first time ever writing fanfic so bear with me, please! I'm happy to take any criticism I can get! I'm probably going to update every week ish? 
> 
> Anyway I'm really scared but I hope ppl actually like this ahahah.
> 
> Enjoy! (or not)

The boy slowly walks through the snow. Cold, lethargic. Hands sliced and scratched and numb to the point that he can’t move his fingers. Legs aching. Yellowing bruises littering his skin. Torn clothes holding the undeniable scent of smoke and gunpowder; of disaster. Yet the physical pain can never compare to the shattered remains of his heart. Friends don’t blow up homes, do they? They don’t manipulate, terrorize, abuse.

 _He was never my friend._

Tommy misses Tubbo. He misses the warmth of his home - even just the small amount of comfort Logstedshire brought him. He misses seeing people. He had come so close to ending everything. To plummeting through the air, waiting for the impact that would gently take him away to a peaceful place. He could drift slowly into nothingness. But he couldn’t give up. _For Tubbo,_ he thinks.

_Hang in there for Tubbo._

The stars shine bright above him, mocking him. He remembers sitting on the bench with Tubbo, looking at those same stars. He remembers long nights with Wilbur in Pogtopia. He remembers being happy. Thinking back, he can’t remember the last time he was happy. Truly happy. Not since Wilbur blew up L’manberg and died. Not since Dream blew up Logstedshire. History repeats itself. Tommy knows this by now.

_And now, if everything works out fairly, Dream should die._

But he won’t. Tommy knows this.

He spits at the ground bitterly.

_Life isn’t fair._

Immediately, guilt sets in. He just wished death upon the closest thing he had to a friend. Tommy looks around nervously, half expecting Dream to pop out from behind a tree and berate him for his traitorous thoughts. To punish him for them. Maybe he’d beat Tommy until he was on the brink of death, and then heal him. Maybe he’d hold Tommy under the water until his lungs burned, ached, split in half. Maybe he’d tie Tommy up over a roaring fire and listen to the boy whimpering as his skin slowly blistered, blackened, crisped. Tommy shakes his head.

_Dream’s not here. I’m alone._

The wind shifts around him, whistling through the towering spruce trees. A rabbit bounds through the snow.

 _Oh, what I’d give to be carefree like that again,_ he thinks. He doesn’t know where he’s going, what he planned to do after his escape.

_I can’t go back now._

He searches through his salvaged items - pictures of him and Tubbo, and of course, his compass. _My Tubbo_ , it reads. The cold weight in his hand is enough to bring his muddled brain into a more logical state.

 _Food,_ Tommy thinks.

_I need food._

But the landscape is bare, apart from the many spruce trees surrounding him. No farms, no villages, not even a shred of man-made light. Tommy is screwed. “Fuck,” he whispers shakily. Hot tears threaten to spill from his eyes, and he blinks them away.

_I’m lost. I’m lost in this fucking snow and I have no food, weapons, anything. If a zombie comes along I’m dead meat. I’m going to die out here._

Nevertheless, he keeps trudging along. He doesn’t know how, but a small flicker of hope still lives within him; just enough to keep his heart warm, even in the freezing snow.

He reaches the end of the spruce forest, feeling the small spark of hope grow larger and larger. Surely there must be something, someone, here to help him. And he’s right. He can hardly see it in the faint light of the stars, but it’s there regardless. A footprint in the snow. Followed by another, and another. His heart races. His excitement means he fails to see the second pair of footprints, the arrows scattered on the ground, the hostile eyes watching him from the darkness of a cave.

_This is finally it! Someone is here to help me! I can eat, and sleep, and get warm!_

He picks up the pace as he follows the trail of footprints, forgetting about his previous tiredness completely. The trail leads him across the snowy field, and then abruptly stops in front of a cave.

_There has to be someone living in this cave…_

Not quite as carefully as he should, Tommy creeps into the cave and calls out. “Hello?” His voice echoes. “Anybody here?” He ventures deeper into the cave, hoping for somebody, anybody, who can help him.

It’s pitch black. Tommy has no torch and is forced to squint in the inky darkness to catch a glimpse of the surrounding cave. He hears a creaking sound in front of him, but disregards it and continues walking forwards. He doesn’t need to strain his eyes for long, though, since the room was suddenly flooding with deceivingly warm light. Tommy blinks furiously and spots a torch standing alone in the middle of the cave.

_What the…_

He hears the creaking again.

 _What is that sound?_ A cold feeling of foreboding rolls over him. He shouldn’t be here. Every nerve in his body is screaming at him to turn around and leave. But it’s too late. A harsh, raspy laugh echoes around the boy. He whips around and sees a crossbow, loaded and aimed directly at his chest.

_Fuck._

_Shit._

_Fuck._

He’s unarmed, weak. His trembling legs can barely hold him up. He’s hardly fit for a fight. And especially not with the creature in front of him.

The aforementioned creature has dusty-looking skin, in an awful shade of grey. Its dull eyes are cruel and unforgiving. They shine with a cold hunger for blood. Its mouth is set in a firm line. Tommy stumbles backwards desperately, forced to look up at the _thing_ that seems to tower above him. Another laugh sounds, this time from behind him. He swivels again, only to be faced by another of the same creature (also with a loaded crossbow). Tommy can’t move. He’s rooted to the spot and absolutely terrified. 

Pain. A hot spike of it. It bites through the cold, through the numbness holding him to his spot on the floor. He cries out, falls to his knees on the cold stone floor. His fingers tremble as he reaches back towards his shoulder. Feeling the shaft of the arrow buried deep inside his shoulder makes him want to gag. He rips it out of his shoulder, yelling in pure agony.

 _Mother trucker dude, that hurt like a buttcheek on a stick!_ [Sorry, I had to do it]

Tears start to trickle from his eyes as he looks down at his bloodied hands, at the arrow tip dripping a deep red. Tommy can only imagine what the mess on his shoulder looks like. 

He scrambles to get up, only to be shot down again, the arrow landing in his upper thigh this time. He screams again. “Please…” He whispers hoarsely, truly crying now. Another arrow, embedded in his hip. He writhes on the floor.

_This is my punishment for leaving Dream, isn’t it? I’m going to die here, alone._

He sniffles, winces silently as another arrow lodges itself near his collarbone.

_I should never have left him._

_He was all I had._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade finds Tommy, and Tommy has a scary flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cannot believe the amount of people who have actually read the first chapter, its insane.
> 
> thank you all so so much
> 
> i literally worked my ass off all night to get this chapter finished - i was so excited. i also made this chapter a fair bit longer!
> 
> also, i posted this story on wattpad! my user is abbydoesdumbstuff if you wanted to check it out on there :)
> 
> for the future, i will do my best to update AT LEAST once a week, but i should be updating more often than that!

As a young boy grows weaker on a cold cave floor, less than 200 blocks away an older boy (or man), is tending to his animals. It’s unusual for his animals to be this skittish, but Technoblade brushes the thought aside and continues feeding Carl. Carl, in particular, seems very distressed, but Carl has been like this for a while now, so Techno thinks nothing of it.

_Help him…_

_Save him..._

The voices echo in his head. Carl whinnies along with them.

“Who?” He grunts. “Who needs saving?”

But the voices are gone, leaving a sense of guilt eating away at him. 

Although others are scared of Techno and his extensive fighting skills, he’s not a bad person. The opposite, in fact. What if someone was in danger? And there was nothing he could do about it since the _voices_ wouldn’t tell him. 

He feels the guilt sharpen into frustration, then anger. He scowls and finishes feeding his animals.

Heading back to his house, he picks up his shield and netherite sword from the dust-covered chest they lay in. It’s been a while since he’s given in to the bloodthirsty urges he feels. Usually, he’s goaded on by the voices in his head. The ones that he can’t drown out, no matter how hard he tries.

But this time, he didn’t need goading. He needed information. And those stupid voices, usually so happy to cause conflict, hadn’t given him any. He feels the frustration spike again and quickly leaves his property. He knows he’s capable of killing every animal he holds dear if he flies into enough of a rage - and once he comes back to his senses he’ll be devastated.

Techno doesn’t really know where he’s going, he just knows he needs to blow off steam. He finds a nice cave near his house and decides it’s a good place to go monster hunting. 

The man has previously enjoyed monster hunting; being able to take his anger out on the lesser beings that renounce the sun, those that prefer to live their half-lives under the suffocating cover of darkness. He can stab and slice and butcher with little regret; after all, they always come back. But it’s been a long time since he’s gone seeking monsters on purpose.

In this cave, he hears the irrefutable sound of a bowstring being drawn taut, snapping, shooting. A muffled cry. He drifts forward, closer to the sounds. A torch flickers around the corner. Another arrow shot. Another cry, this time clearly resonating through the stone room. The shriek sounds like pure pain.

Techno winces. The scream pierces deep into his heart, igniting a part of him that wants to fight, destroy. His muscles ache to go in and wreak havoc. Someone, something, is hurting somebody innocent. 

And that is not okay with Techno.

_Yes!_

_Go save him Techno…_

_Blood for the Blood Gods!_

So, not quite knowing what to expect, Techno steps around the corner, sword drawn, shield raised.

He immediately spots a red and white pile curled up on the ground, but disregards it quickly as he is suddenly faced by two grey-skinned creatures with loaded crossbows. 

Pillagers.

He blocks the first arrow with his shield, quickly lashing out with his sword and catching one of the pillagers in its upper arm. The pillager lets out a low hiss of pain, and Techno pushes forward, thrusting his sword deep into the heart of the beast. The creature melts away, dissolving into nothingness, leaving its crossbow and arrows clattering to the ground.

One down, one to go.

But Techno’s small celebration is cut short by a surge of pain in the small of his back. He growls angrily, reaches to grasp the shaft of the arrow, and tugs it out of his flesh. 

Unfortunately for the pillager, its arrow has only managed to majorly piss Technoblade off. And when Techno gets pissed off, he gets violent. Extremely violent.

A low rumble sounds from the back of his throat. He whirls around and yanks the crossbow from the pillager’s hands before it can react.

“Ahh!” The pillager yelps. “Stop, I coulda dropped my croissant!”

_It’s a crossbow, bitch._

Techno ignores both the monster and the voice in his head and pins the creature to the wall, holding his glowing purple sword against its thick neck. The pillager sinks its long nails into Techno’s shoulders savagely, but Techno has other things on his mind. 

“Let this serve as a lesson to you,” Techno breathes, a cruel smile on his face. “ _Nobody_ ,” He pushes the sword into the creature’s neck a little, “corners somebody as helpless as that,” he tilts his head towards the lifeless-looking pile on the ground, “and gets away with it.” 

The pillager squirms and tries to wrestle Techno’s sword out of his hands, so Techno severs its hand at the wrist.

The image is grotesque. No blood pours from the stump. Grey flesh gives way to sickly yellow bone, oozing with yellow liquid.

_Karma’s a bitch,_ the voices say. 

_It gets what it deserves._

And Techno can’t help but agree with the voices for once.

He slits the monster’s throat without thinking, watches as the pillager disintegrates.

He expected to feel triumphant after his victory, but all he feels is guilt. This is the first time in years that Techno has given in to the murderous hunger that has plagued him for so long. 

But there’s no time to feel bad. Somebody’s life is at stake.

Techno walks over to the figure slumped face down on the floor. He slowly crouches down next to them and gently rolls them over.

Techno gasps.

There, unconscious on the cool stone, malnourished, injured, exhausted, lies the unmistakable body of Tommyinnit. 

“Tommy?” Techno whispers quietly, successfully finding a faint pulse on the boy’s wrist. The boy doesn’t answer. 

“Oh god. Oh god.” Techno wants to be sick. He’s not normally one for emotions, but the state of Tommy absolutely horrifies him. The boy is a mere shell of what he used to be. He can no longer see the playful brother he grew up with. The feisty young boy that would cuss him out with no hesitation. What had happened to him?

He was skin and bone; hollowed cheeks, bony wrists, skin stretched tight over ribs that jutted out. Tear tracks glistened on his pale face. His signature red and white clothing was ripped beyond recognition, and also looked to be burnt in some places. But worst of all was the amount of blood soaking through the remains of his clothes. He had been shot many times, most of the arrows still wedged in his flesh.

_Save him…_

“I’m trying. I’m fucking trying, okay?” His voice cracks. Techno pulls a hand through his sweaty pink hair. He has never felt the urge to cry more than now. But he can’t. He needs to stay strong for Tommy. He owes him this much at least.

He decides to take Tommy back to his house before looking properly at his injuries. Phil had taught Techno basic healing techniques, so with luck, he’d be able to nurse Tommy back to full health.

He lifts Tommy up tenderly. The boy weighs next to nothing. It’s light work carrying him back to his cabin.

Carl neighs loudly as he walks past (and Techno could have sworn he feels the boy twitch at the same time, but he dismisses it).

When they get inside, Techno grabs blankets and lines the couch with them. He can’t help but wonder whether Tommy would stay with him once he’s healed. He hates to admit it, but it gets lonely. Phil hasn’t come to visit in months, and there’s only so much solitary confinement Techno can take. 

He shakes his head and clears his throat. Now is not the time for a sob-fest. There are more pressing matters at hand.

He gently places Tommy’s body on the lined couch, wondering where to start. 

_The arrows._

_The arrows._

_The arrows._

Right. The arrows.

He grabs a regeneration potion and soaks a bandage with it. And then slowly, surely, he starts to pull out the first arrow. The sound of flesh ripping is almost unbearable, but Techno keeps pulling. When the arrow is free, he grabs a clean cloth and presses down on the gaping hole, hard. He holds it there for a while, until the blood flow stops, and then wraps the potion-soaked bandage around it.

One down, a lot more to go.

He continues bandaging the punctures all over the smaller boy’s body and discovers the worst wound when he rolls the boy over. A chunk of flesh the size of a small apple is completely missing from his shoulder, leaving behind a gory, bloody mess. The boy had obviously ripped a barbed arrowhead out of his shoulder, taking a copious amount of tissue with it.

He shrugs, wrapping the wound the same way he did the others, not realizing that the regeneration potion alone wouldn’t be enough to heal it - that before long it would start to fester and rot.

Satisfied with his efforts, Techno rolls the boy onto his back and places a thick blanket over him. He pulls a chair up next to the couch and sits for the first time in hours. Tommy’s hand pokes out of the blanket, flopping down towards the floor. Techno grabs it softly, his own calloused hand slowly warming the boy’s cold one.

“Oh Tommy,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb over the back of Tommy’s hand, “what happened to you?”

~~~

_Tommy sits on the edge of his bed, inside his white tent. Today has been a good day, he thinks as he looks at his compass. My Tubbo. Oh, he still misses his Tubbo, but life has been looking up. He hears the whoosh of the nether portal and eagerly leaps up. Dream is finally here to see him again! Tommy hasn’t seen him for a week or so, and he misses his new friend._

_He quickly deposits the compass inside his ender chest and skips over to meet Dream. The smiley mask looks back at him, a few blocks away. It gives Tommy the creeps a little, but that’s okay._

_“Hi Dream!” he exclaims. “I’ve missed you!”_

_Silence. The empty black eyes seem to look into his soul._

_“Dream?” He asks, a little put off now._

_The green man reaches out and grabs one of Tommy’s hands firmly. He starts walking, dragging Tommy with him._

_Tommy goes with him willingly, more curious than anything. Where is Dream taking him? What’s happening?_

_They end up back at Tommy’s tent, in front of the ender chest._

_Tommy looks at Dream questioningly._

_“Open it.” Dream orders._

_Tommy can’t process what is happening._

_“Huh? Why?” He asks._

_“Open it.” He repeats._

_“What the… Why?” Tommy is unable to understand just why Dream wants him to open the ender chest._

_“Do as I say, Tommy. Open. The. Chest.” Dream says, unwavering. His voice has a scary edge to it, so Tommy does what he’s told._

_The green chest creaks a little as it opens._

_“Wha-” Tommy is cut off._

_“Take out the compass.” Dream says, obstinate._

_Tommy’s mind runs at a million miles a minute. How did Dream find out about the compass? Why does he want the compass? Oh god, is he going to destroy it? He can’t let Dream destroy it; it’s all he has left._

_“Wha- what compass?” He plays dumb, heart racing._

_Dream’s grip on Tommy’s hand tightens._

_“Pass me the compass, Tommy.” He says, menacingly._

_“Dream, I- I don’t have a compass.” He keeps up his act, desperately praying that Dream can’t tell he’s lying._

_Nails start to dig into Tommy’s hand._

_“Does ‘My Tubbo’ sound familiar to you, Tommy?” Dream asks, voice silky smooth._

_Tommy’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out. How could he possibly know about the compass?_

_“How? How did you find out?” Is the only thing he can manage to say. He curses himself for giving up the act so easily._

_“Don’t you worry your little head about it,” Dream replies, with a sinister edge to his voice. His grip tightens again; his nails cutting deeper into Tommy. “Now give me the compass.”_

_“I-” Tommy winces, “Dream, you’re hurting me, please, just stop.”_

_Dream just lets out a humorless laugh, and his nails continue to dig deeper._

_“I’ll stop when that compass is destroyed. When you are_ **_my_ ** _Tommy, not Tubbo’s Tommy.” He leans in towards Tommy’s face as he speaks._

_Tommy is terrified. But he will_ **_not_ ** _let some green bitch take his best friend away from him._

_“No,” he says firmly. “It’s my compass. I’m keeping it. I’ll never be yours.”_

_Dream chuckles dryly._

_“Alright. Let's see if you change your mind after this.” He releases Tommy’s hand and leaves the tent. Tommy feels the blood start to drip down his hand. Dream’s grip had been so barbaric that it had drawn blood. He wouldn’t be surprised if the cuts scarred._

_Tommy didn’t have long to recover, however, before Dream returned, carrying with him a bottle of dark, thick liquid._

_Dream hands the bottle to Tommy._

_“Drink it,” he says. “Drink it, and I’ll forgive you for hiding the compass from me. I won’t even destroy the compass. Just drink it.”_

_Tommy shakily unscrews the lid and takes an experimental whiff of the contents. He gags. It smells foul._

_“Drink it, Tommy.” Dream whispers._

_So he does._

_Tommy tips his head back and downs the bottle in one gulp. He swallows, and immediately gags again. However bad the potion had smelt, it tastes a thousand times worse. It runs down his throat like liquid fire, spreading through his nerves in burning waves. The flames lick at his fingers, toes, arms, legs, but mainly his heart. The pain is unimaginable._

_He lets out strangled cries of pain, tears pouring down his face. He chokes on saliva, hysterical, inconsolable. Dream reaches out to grab him gently while he struggles._

_Dream’s hand rubs circles on Tommy’s shoulder, comforting. And at last, the pain is over. Tommy has never felt more feeble than this. He wonders: If somebody hit him, would he just crumble into dust? Probably. That’s how brittle he feels._

_Tommy cries, throwing his arms around Dream._

_“Never again, please,” he whispers weakly. Dream shakes his head and continues rubbing circles on Tommy’s back._

_“I can’t promise anything, Tommy. You disobeyed me. You kept secrets from me. Bad things happen to people who keep secrets.” Dream says, almost sounding sorry. But not quite._

_Tommy sobs._

_“I’ll never do it again Dream, I promise!” He buries his head into Dream’s chest._

_“Shhh,” Dream whispers. “It’s okay. I’m here for you Tommy.”_

_Dream grasps Tommy’s hand again. His voice takes on a slightly threatening tone._

_“You’re never getting rid of me.”_

~~~

Tommy wakes, feeling somebody else’s hand on top of his own. He leaps up, panics, holds back the urge to scream.

His voice trembles in fear.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> techno and tommy fluff, angst, everything in between. new character pov :))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your support! your comments literally make my day. 
> 
> also we're at 600 hits as of right now, and that is so crazy to me, oh my god!
> 
> anyway I hope you enjoy this - it is only half edited because I really wanted to get this chapter out, so sorry if there are any mistakes!

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Tommy spits shakily.

“Woah, woah, Tommy…” A tired-sounding voice says.

But not the one he had been expecting. Not the voice laced with threats, with danger. A monotonous one, a - dare he think it - comforting one. One inherently familiar, although he hadn’t heard it in a long time.

Tommy’s eyes flit around the room rapidly as he takes in his surroundings. Warm fire, comfy blankets, armor and weapons on the walls… 

_ This isn’t exile. _

_ And that’s not Dream… _

He finally looks at the source of the voice. His eyes meet flickering red ones. He looks up, up to wavy pink hair. Back down again, down to the scars scattered across his face.

_ Technoblade. _

Tommy hasn’t seen his estranged, bloodthirsty brother for years. Not since Tommy woke up one day, waltzed out of the house he shared with Techno, Phil, and Wilbur, and never came back. And judging by the blank expression on Techno’s face, he wasn’t happy that Tommy had returned.

He has no idea how he got here - the last thing he remembers is being attacked by pillagers in a cave - but releases the thought quickly as a new issue comes to the forefront of his mind.

_ Oh god. _

_ Oh,  _ **_god._ **

_ Techno is going to hand me in to Dream, isn’t he? _

_ Shit. _

_ I have to leave. _

His brother sits calmly on the wooden chair next to the couch, expressionless. The pink-haired man yawns, closing his eyes a little, and Tommy takes his chance.

He runs for it.

Unfortunately, he had not foreseen how much of a burden his still-healing wounds would be. In fact, he had forgotten about them completely - and then he takes one step and feels several of them split open again, sending a wave of pain through his body.

“Fuck,” he yelps, alerting Techno to his pitiful attempt at escape.

Terrified at the thought of being caught, the boy continues to run, even with his injuries hindering him. Adrenaline surges through him, and he darts past Techno, towards the door, towards freedom.

The older man is groggy, on the verge of passing out - which is fair enough, considering he had stayed awake watching over the boy, feeling a small stab to the heart each time the boy whimpered in his sleep.

Techno stumbles wearily to chase after Tommy, but the younger boy, even with his small setback, has flown out the door already.

“Why are you running?” Techno yells, rolling the ‘r’ and gesturing wildly with his hands. “ _ Why  _ are you running?” 

Tommy doesn’t bother looking back at Techno, instead focusing on putting one foot in front of the other in the snow. He can feel his brain swirling, dizziness creeping in. 

_ I can’t pass out. _

_ Not now… _

He keeps running, ignoring the fuzzy feeling in his head. Ignoring the freezing snow on his feet which he just realized are bare.

“Tommy!” Techno calls from behind him. “Please!” Techno sounds desperate - it’s a side of him that Tommy has never seen before. The Technoblade that Tommy knows would never admit to weakness. But this Techno, this one sounds vulnerable.

Tommy slows a bit, sorely tempted to return to Techno.

_ No. I can’t trust him. He’s going to hand me in to Dream. _

He prepares to keep sprinting, but his hesitation has given time for none other than Carl, Techno’s unusually intelligent horse, to gallop in front of him.

The horse pulls to a halt and snorts, hot breath steaming in the night air. Tommy stops dead in his tracks. That feeling - that spark of hope that had never deserted him during exile, that had kept him going through the pillager attack, that was ultimately the reason he was alive - it was stronger than ever. He could feel it pulsing in his veins. And somehow, he could sense it inside the horse too. 

His heart beats rapidly as he reaches a hand out to Carl’s muzzle. The moment that his hand makes contact is one that he’ll never forget. 

He is flooded with strength, warmth, comfort. He feels as though he could quite literally float on air. The world is his oyster. And he can  _ see _ the golden rope binding him to the horse. The cord is thick, intricately woven, and ties him to reality. It keeps him grounded.

Tommy inhales sharply and pulls his hand back.

_ What the fuck just happened. _

_ What the fuck. _

A hand grabs his shoulder from behind, and Tommy jumps. He sees Techno holding his shoulder, considers trying to run again, and thinks better of it. His feet are numb, wounds open - probably bleeding, and he’s exhausted. 

“Please, Techno. Don’t touch me,” Tommy breathes, weakly. Techno frowns, quickly, very quickly, before putting his blank mask back on, and slowly retracting his hand. 

“Come on, Tommy. Let’s go inside.” Techno says, rather bluntly. Tommy tries to protest a little, but Techno is firm.

“It’s safe for you here,” he says. “I promise.”

~~~

Later, Tommy sits on the couch next to Techno, awkwardly avoiding physical contact. He sits with his back ramrod straight, unable to relax.

Techno stretches and drags himself off the couch to rummage through his chests. Tommy wonders what he could possibly be looking for.

_ Probably a communicator. You know, so he can tell Dream where I am. _

Thinking back, Tommy doesn’t know why he came back here with Techno. Yes, he would have died alone in the snow if he had tried to run; but really, he’d rather die alone than go back to Dream. 

His spine shivers just thinking about the masked man. For so long, he had been Tommy’s only friend; his only sense of comfort. But now Tommy had come to realize that Dream was also the reason he needed comfort in the first place. After all, it had been him that ordered Tubbo to put him in exile, hadn’t it? It had been Dream who physically harmed him.

But then again, nobody else came to exile for him. Just Dream. Maybe he really did care.

Techno shakes him out of his reverie by clearing his throat loudly. He holds out a bottle of light, silvery liquid.

“Uh, drink this,” he says. Tommy’s eyes widen at the sight of the bottle. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. Techno waves the bottle in front of his face again. “It won’t hurt you, you know.”

“I- no thank you.” Tommy bites his lip and swallows, feeling a lump in his throat. Techno starts to get frustrated. 

“Just drink it, jesus,” Techno says, exasperated.

Tommy’s eyes burn and his vision starts to blur. He shakes his head again, unable to speak.

Techno growls quietly. “Drink it, Tommy.”

Tommy’s head swims. 

‘ _ Drink it, Tommy,’ the menacing voice whispers.  _

“No,” he whimpers out loud, “no, no, no, no, no.” 

_ Nails dig deeper into his skin.  _

Tommy tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls, enough to feel pain pricking at his roots.

Techno watches the panicking boy in horror. He awkwardly reaches towards Tommy, moves his fingers in soothing circles on his back. To his dismay, this unravels the boy further. Tommy starts to shudder, tears pouring relentlessly from his eyes.

_ The flames overwhelm him, invading his sinuses. The stifling heat effectively blocks his lungs. He can’t breathe. A hand falls upon his back, stroking patterns. _

Tommy can’t help it. He convulses at the touch; shakes so hard that the hand leaves. 

_ The flames start to recede. He can breathe again. _

And suddenly, Tommy’s back in his own mind again. His forehead is damp with sweat, and he sucks in deep breaths. Cradling his knees, he rocks back and forth as he cries.

The older man looks at him, absolutely heartbroken. His red eyes glimmer with unshed tears. What had happened? What had taken this poor boy in its jaws, chewed him up, spat him out?

Tommy tries not to panic again. The blood rushing through his head is far too loud; it drowns out his thoughts. He’s haunted by a desperate want, a  _ need _ for touch. For comfort. But he is so starved of the simple concept that his body rejects it.

Techno still stands in front of him, the bottle long gone by now.

“Oh, Tommy. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry-” Techno is cut off.

“Can y- can you sit?” Tommy murmurs apprehensively, gesturing to the empty space on the couch next to him. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Techno says no.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to know.

“Okay.”

And then the man is sitting next to Tommy, weight shifting the couch a little. Techno sits close to Tommy, but respects his boundaries, and doesn’t make contact with him.

Ironically, that’s what Tommy wants most right now.

_ Just do it. _

So Tommy slowly, carefully leans towards his older brother to rest his head on Techno’s shoulder.

The man stiffens when Tommy touches him, but quickly relaxes. He reaches a tentative hand out to run it through Tommy’s fluffy blond hair.

Tommy snuggles closer, and Techno melts. Never,  _ ever,  _ has the man felt this much love for his brother. More confidently, he loops his other arm around Tommy’s shoulder, still playing with his hair, gently scratching his scalp.

Tommy sighs contentedly and closes his eyes, safely wrapped in Techno’s arms. He’s so warm; his body  _ and  _ his heart.

_ I wish this could last forever… _

The two boys, both indulging in the physical contact, drifted off to sleep together, hearts beating in sync.

~~~

Ghostbur lives a simple life. He knows he’s dead, so really, it isn’t a life. But that doesn’t bother him. 

He can’t remember what happened when he was alive, only knows he died and was reincarnated as a calmer version of himself - or at least that’s what he’s heard from others. 

Sometimes he wonders whether his living self had been a good person. Surely he had. He can’t imagine being a villain. 

He knows who his family is. He knows Technoblade, his violent twin brother. Tommy, his small, fiery younger brother. Phil, his knowledgeable, calm father. But he doesn’t know himself.

Nevertheless, his life is happy. He runs a small farm, tends to his sheep and crops, occasionally visits his friends and family.

Recently, his optimistic outlook on life has been fading a bit, which stresses him out ( _ Why? Why isn’t everything as happy as it used to be?) _ \- but Ghostbur simply grabs a piece of blue, and lets the peace it brings wash over him.

That reminds him.

_ I need to get more blue.  _

_ I’ll have to go ask Techno if he can get me some. _

While his existence is a blessing, it’s also a curse. Yes, he can shear his sheep, and farm his crops, and most normal everyday things - but he can’t mine, or touch weapons, or even touch people. And it’s the last part that grates on him the most.

Ghostbur is what you could call a people person. He thrives on interactions, especially physical ones. But the only touches he can get are from his animals.

Ghostbur frowns and grabs a stack of blue out of a chest. He can feel the negative emotions tugging at his heartstrings, threatening to tear him out of this peaceful state of half-existence and into the void.

Immediately, his mind is at ease again. 

With nothing else to do for the day, Ghostbur starts on his way to Technoblade’s house. He brings a bucket of apples from his orchard with him. 

Ghostbur hums a sweet tune as he walks, swinging the bucket gently. His steps are springy and energetic.

He spots a large group of chickens in a field to his right. “Look at all those chickens!” He breathes excitedly.

~~~

A while later night has fallen and Ghostbur has finally reached his twin’s house. The lights are on inside, so he knocks on the front door and waits for somebody to answer it.

Nobody comes.

Ghostbur tries the doorknob and the door swings open. 

_ Weird. _

Undeterred, he walks inside the cabin, savoring the feeling of warmth being absorbed into his bones. He hears gentle snoring and smiles.

_ He must be asleep. _

_ I’ll go wake him up. _

And you can imagine Ghostbur’s surprise when he walks into the living room and finds not one brother, but two, cuddled in together.

“Tommy?” He blurts loudly (and not so tactfully).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ghostbur content for yall
> 
> and more memes, ofc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG
> 
> i rewrote this chapter several times because I wasn't happy with how it turned out, but here you go!
> 
> this is 3k words which is my longest chapter yet ee!!
> 
> also karl and quackity met up again and i'm crying!

Tommy wakes with a gasp - he hasn’t heard that voice in what feels like years. His blue eyes snap open and he takes in his surroundings again. 

He’s on the couch and- 

_ Oh! _

Technoblade’s arm is around him, one hand resting on his bandaged shoulder, the other threaded through his slightly matted hair. The pink-haired man is still asleep snoring softly, so Tommy tries not to disturb him as he desperately grasps hold of the situation.

Warm brown eyes are staring at him, shocked. Tommy can see the tears welling up inside them. The reflection of the fireplace flickers, disfigured slightly by the salty water pooling.

The eyes are surrounded by pale skin. Far, far too pale. Unnaturally pale. Almost…  _ Ghostly. _

_ Ghostbur… _

“Tommy…” Ghostbur echoes, quieter this time. 

Throwing caution to the wind, Tommy rushes out of Techno’s arms and into Ghostbur’s. He runs straight through Ghostbur.

_ What…? _

He tries futilely to touch Ghostbur again.

_ You have got to be shitting me… _

Thinking back to the beginning of exile, he realizes that even when Ghostbur had visited him, they had never touched. He had never hugged his brother, never jokingly punched his shoulder, never brushed fingertips when handing something over.

Tommy can’t even remember the last time he touched Wilbur. Was it during a childish game of tag as they grew up? Was it that time as kids that Wilbur had handed Tommy his trademark yellow jumper? Was it in the armory, preparing for battle against Dream?

Tommy feels uneasy just thinking about it.

_ I can’t remember the last time I touched my  _ **_brother._ ** __

_ My own brother. _

“I-” Tommy tries to speak. “I missed you Ghostbur,” he manages, softly. “But why did you leave me?”

Ghostbur holds blue. His eyes shine with more unshed tears; tears that he is determined to keep unshed.

“Tommy, I promise you, I wanted to come back!” Ghostbur exclaims. “It was- it was  _ him,  _ Tommy. He kept me away.”

Tommy shakes his head and swallows. Something boils up inside of him suddenly - and it feels a lot like rage.

_ How dare he come back and pretend like nothing is wrong? _

_ What gives him the right to come and give me pity when  _ **_he_ ** _ is the reason for this? _

“You know what?” He says, as strongly as he can. “I don’t care. Fuck you, bitch. You left me. You don’t care - you don’t care what happened to me in exile, don’t care that Dream-”

“Tommy, no-”

Tommy starts to cry but keeps rapidly spitting out words.

“You don’t care about what Dream did to me. And you  _ saw _ what he did. You watched him break me, inside and out. You saw my spirit be crushed. And you just let it happen.”

Ghostbur holds a finger to Tommy’s lips, trying to calm him.

“Get your finger out of my face.” Tommy points mockingly in Ghostbur’s face. [I HOPE PPL GET THIS LMAO] “You’re a fucking shit brother. I would never,  _ ever,  _ have let this happen to you. So why did you let it happen to me, huh?”

Ghostbur tries to speak but Tommy cuts him off again.

“I’ll tell you why. Because you’re an arrogant, self-centered prick. You care about your  _ ‘blue’ _ and your  _ ‘friend’  _ and your happy-go-lucky half-life but you don’t give a  _ shit  _ about us; about me _!  _ You think you’re so amazing but it’s a lie. It’s all a lie. When you were alive you were evil! You  _ blew up  _ a nation.  _ Our  _ nation! And your  _ own father _ had to kill you because you were insane, you were bat shit crazy, and we had to get rid of you before you killed us all!”

The tears are streaming down his face at this point, but his voice doesn’t waver. 

“Now leave! I don’t know what you’re here for and I don’t care. Just get out.” His voice lowers a bit. “I don’t want to look at you.”

Ghostbur clutches his blue desperately. He can feel his heart slowly breaking and he doesn’t know how to relieve the pain.

_ Oh, this hurts. _

_ This hurts too much. _

_ I can’t do it. _

The void is a welcoming presence. It beckons to him, warm and inviting. Peaceful. Ghostbur can feel himself slipping away slowly. He sighs quietly.

_ Maybe it’s time to go for real… _

Ghostbur is jolted back to reality when Tommy clears his throat and looks pointedly at the door.

“Oh.”

So, with a heavy heart and a handful of blue, Ghostbur trudges out of Techno’s house, heading to who knows where.

~~~

Technoblade wakes to raised voices (well,  _ a _ raised voice). He feels a bit cold, missing the warmth that Tommy had brought him while he was asleep.

“...don’t give a  _ shit  _ about us; about me _!  _ You think you’re so amazing but it’s a lie. It’s all a lie. When you were alive you were evil! You  _ blew up  _ a nation.  _ Our  _ nation! And your  _ own father _ had to kill you because you were insane, you were bat shit crazy, and we had to get rid of you before you killed us all!”

_ Ghostbur. _

_ Ghostbur, Ghostbur, Ghostbur. _

_ O7. _

Techno winces at the voices both inside his head and inside his house. He knows Tommy’s words will cut deep into Ghostbur - but can’t help feeling a little grateful that Tommy has some of his fire back.

“Now leave. I don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t care. Just get out. I don’t want to look at you.”

And then…

“Oh.”

And the undeniable sound of dejected footsteps.

Techno stretches and groans, watching Tommy’s face as the younger boy finds him very much awake.

Tommy settles somewhere between horror and shock.

“How much of that did you hear?” He asks, scared.

Techno stands, dusts himself off (although there is nothing to dust off), and rests a gentle hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Enough.” He says, monotonous. “Enough to know that somebody hurt you. Somebody did this to you, twisted your mind, made you  _ cry.”  _

Tommy breathes slowly.

“Enough to know that I won’t rest until that  _ bastard _ is ripped limb from limb.”

Tommy grows pale rapidly.

“Techno- I- You… No!” He stutters. 

Looking at the broken boy in front of him, Techno’s anger only grows, bubbling inside of him and threatening to overflow.

“We’re going to need Ghostbur’s help, Tommy. I know you’re angry at him, but you have to apologize. He is your  _ brother.” _

“But Techno-”

“No buts. I’m going to get Ghostbur. You stay here. And if you don’t, I will find you again.”

And with that, Techno is gone, stomping out of the door.

~~~

Tommy sits on the edge of the couch gently and sighs. He doesn’t regret what he said to Ghostbur - he meant it. He just regrets that he lost control. Every last piece of hurt and betrayal had flown out of his mouth in broken shards and practically stabbed Ghostbur.

He had been trying  _ so hard  _ to keep calm. But he had failed.

His shoulder throbs. His heart aches. And his optimism is shattered. 

_ I  _ **_will not_ ** _ get caught in a spiral of self-pity again. _

_ I won’t. _

_ Not again. _

Letting out another deep sigh, he reaches deep into his pocket and pulls out his compass again. It points unwaveringly to his left. 

_ My Tubbo. _

_ Oh, how I miss my Tubbo. _

Tommy finds himself wondering if he’ll ever see his Tubbo again. A harsh laugh spills from the depths of his throat. He’s kidding himself. Even if he did live long enough to be reunited with Tubbo, he’s already been replaced.

_ Ranboo. _

It’s a stupid name. Who wants to be named after a boob? Why would you want to be friends with someone named after a boob? Why would you want to be  _ best  _ friends with someone named after a boob?

He looks at the compass again, tempted to throw it into the fireplace; watch it go up in flames. Tubbo has probably thrown his one out by now. He probably has a Ranboo one. It makes him sick thinking of  _ his  _ best friend having another best friend. 

He can’t even look at the compass anymore.

“Ugh.” He throws the compass onto the floor as hard as he can, then retreats upstairs. He doesn’t really know where he’s going, only that he doesn’t want to be in the living room when Techno returns.

~~~

Technoblade knows where Ghostbur went. He went to the treehouse.

The treehouse holds many memories for Techno and Ghostbur. They built it together at 11 years old, the day they were adopted by Phil. Phil had sent them out to ‘go play’ and the two boys had stumbled across the most incredible spruce tree - of course, they had to make it into a treehouse.

It took them weeks and weeks to finish it; being scrawny pre-teens hadn’t resulted in the most efficient approach towards constructing it. But in the end, it was a wonderful space. It was cozy and warm, had shelves stuffed with books, piles of the thickest, fluffiest blankets, windows overlooking the snowy fields. Sometimes they could even see Phil outside working on his ‘adult stuff’ - farming, hunting, building. It became a place of comfort for both boys. 

They named the treehouse Del Taco because that was a very *fresh* name. They would go to Del Taco when they got upset - it wasn’t uncommon to find Techno there sulking after Phil had scolded him for not making his bed, or to find Wilbur sleeping in the pile of blankets after he had refused to share a room with Tommy when he first arrived.

The real beauty of the place was that nobody else knew about it. Not Phil, not Tommy, nobody but the two young boys. The Del Taco had given the twin boys an almost indestructible bond. It was  _ their  _ secret.

Techno can see the tall spruce looming in the distance.

“Del Taco…” He whispers as he approaches.

Suddenly Ghostbur skids out onto the balcony and looks at Techno.

“Get to Del Taco! They got a new thing called freesh a voca doo!” Ghostbur exclaims loudly.

Techno chuckles and shakes his head. He holds his hands out and Ghostbur drops down an avocado - one of their traditions since they had first discovered the amazing existence of avocados.

“What the fuck is up, Ghostbur? Long time no see!” Techno yells up, clutching the avocado.

[OKAY PLEASE I NEED TO STOP IM SORRY]

Ghostbur’s smile fades a little. 

“I actually came here to see you, Techno. But uh, I got… intercepted.”

Techno remembers.

“Yeah… I heard a bit of that. Are you okay?” Techno asks genuinely. “You can tell me. We both know that Del Taco is a safe space.”

Ghostbur sighs.

“I know. Um, I’m trying to stay positive, but it’s so hard. Tommy… I haven’t seen him in so long, and he just-” Ghostbur cuts himself off, grabbing more blue. “Never mind about Tommy. The more urgent issue is that I’m nearly out of blue.”

Techno pulls out three stacks of blue before Ghostbur can finish speaking.

“Will this be enough for now?”

Ghostbur is touched that Techno even remembers his affinity for blue. He nods vigorously.

“Come on then, I left Tommy at home alone, and knowing that kid the house is either burning or blown up. Let’s go.” 

Ghostbur leaps off the balcony with no hesitation and falls slowly through the air; the wind carries him down to the ground like a feather. He lands next to Techno with no sound except for a slight exhale and starts to head home.

Techno clears his throat.

“So, while we’re alone, there’s actually something I need your help with,” Techno says tentatively.

“Go on…”

“So I’m sure you noticed, but something is wrong with Tommy. I don’t know exactly what, but he’s changed. He had a panic attack when I tried to give him a regen potion. He wouldn’t even let me touch him for the longest time. And he arrived here half-starved.”

Ghostbur hums as he listens.

“I think it was Dream.”

Ghostbur stops humming.

“Look, hear me out. The last time I saw Tommy before his exile he was perfectly happy and healthy. Now he’s different. So clearly, something happened during exile. And who was with him in exile?”

“Dream.” Ghostbur says coldly.

Techno nods, glad that Ghostbur can see what he’s saying.

“Oh man, you don’t know how badly I wish I could throttle that guy,” Ghostbur says, in an unusually aggressive tone.

Techno is very surprised by what Ghostbur says. He has never heard the ghost speaking so violently; it reminds him of Alivebur in a creepy way, sending chills down his spine. 

_ Can ghosts go insane? _

_ E _

_ Wilbur insane arc x2 _

_ Pog! _

The voices seem to read Techno’s mind. E is certainly a daily thought for the pink-haired man. 

Techno brushes off his slight unease and focuses on the positive: Ghostbur is on his side.

“I’ll throttle him for you.” Techno offers.

The twins laugh and continue on their way.

~~~

Ghostbur tries to hide the sadness that lingers inside him after Tommy’s outburst. He loves the boy - that much is undeniable - but his words had really hit close to home. After all, Ghostbur had often wondered whether or not he’s been a good person while he was alive. And now Tommy’s saying that he wasn’t; that he was evil and insane. 

_ What if I really was evil? _

He shivers a little and dismisses the thought for now. Tommy probably didn’t mean it. He was hurt and angry and probably absolutely exhausted; it was highly likely he had lashed out for no reason.

The fact that someone he loved had been hurt physically and mentally sent a cool thrill throughout the ghost. He had never felt like this before. It was a cold feeling, not entirely pleasant, but it comforted him a little, for some reason.

Ghostbur would do a lot of things for his little brother. He would walk through fire, jump off a plane, throttle a manipulative green man - whatever it took to help the boy. And right now, he is leaning towards the third option.

He wants to kill. He wants to watch Dream suffer like Tommy obviously had. And he thinks that Techno feels the same way.

_ Don’t get too carried away, Ghostbur… _

The twins arrive at Techno’s house as the sun arrives at the top of the sky. Expecting to see Tommy, they step into the living room.

It’s deserted.

A small silver object lies on the ground. The floorboards around it are splintered; it was obviously thrown there, and with quite a bit of force. 

Ghostbur bends to pick it up.  _ My Tubbo.  _

“Ah fuck, I can’t believe you’ve done this Tommy…” Ghostbur whispers. 

He remembers handing the matching compasses to the boys. Their reactions were almost identical; wide, bright smiles, loud exclamations, and an immediate instinct to protect the compass with their life.

Now seeing the compass on the floor, Ghostbur wonders what could have possibly gone wrong between Tommy and Tubbo. He knows the two friends aren’t as close anymore, as Tubbo has Ranboo, and Tommy, until very recently, had been in exile, alone. But for Tommy to neglect his compass like this was very unusual.

“I’m gonna go up and see him,” Ghostbur says to Techno. “I think I know what this is about. Or at least part of it.”

“Are you sure?”

Ghostbur nods, and Techno shrugs.

Making his way up the stairs, Ghostbur hears quiet sobbing. Something really is wrong with the boy. The cold feeling creeps through his veins again. Oh, how he wishes he could hurt something right now.

He follows the noise and finds Tommy curled up by a window, hugging his knees. 

“Tommy…” 

The boy’s blue eyes lock with Ghostbur’s. They’re like a mere shell of what they used to be. The deep blue orbs [yes, I just said orbs. I regret it.] used to dance with mischief and just  _ life  _ in general. What’s left now looks broken. There’s no spark. Just sad, quiet acceptance. 

“Hi.” The teen whispers. “I won’t yell at you again. I’m sorry.”

Ghostbur wants to crumple to the floor.

“Oh, no, Tommy. Don’t apologize, really. It’s okay.”

“No, I- Ghostbur  _ I  _ was the prick. And I, I shouted at you, and I said some fucked up shit, and I- you-”

“Shhh,” Ghostbur murmurs. “No more apologies. We can talk about this tomorrow. For now, let's go downstairs and get new dressing on those wounds of yours.”

Tommy looks like he wants to argue, but thinks better of it. 

“Okay.” He says. His bones click as he stands up.

Techno is waiting with Tommy’s compass when the boys return. 

“I thought you might want this again,” he says. “I know you and Tubbo haven’t seen each other in a while, but you were best friends for a reason.”

Tommy accepts the compass and sits on the dining table. Normally Techno or Ghostbur would chide him for this but they let it slide. 

“So, doc. What’s up with these bandages?” Tommy asks, gesturing towards the messy patches of bandages all over his body; a brave stab at erasing the tension in the room.

Techno just laughs.

“They’re not that bad!”

~~~

When the sun sets, Tommy is all patched up again. He stretches his tired limbs and heads to the couch again, presumably to sleep. Techno notices this and frowns.

“Hey, Tommy. Where are you going? I’ve got a bed for you.”

Tommy freezes.

“You do?”

“Of course I do, Tommy. Sleeping on the couch was a one-off. Unless you’d rather sleep on the couch, which you are also welcome to do.”

Tommy is touched that Techno is being so considerate. 

“Thank you Techno. A bed would be great.”

Techno tucks Tommy into bed like he would a small child while Ghostbur watches. Tommy wants to protest, but can’t deny that the kind gesture makes him feel comfortable. 

Techno winds his fingers in Tommy’s hair a little, messing it up.

“Goodnight, Theseus.”

Techno sweeps out of the room, leaving Tommy on the brink of slumber. Ghostbur watches with an air of melancholy. He wishes he could do that. Have those small affections that others take for granted.

He smiles a little sadly and leaves the room as well.


End file.
